


Meet the Knight

by RaccoonCherry



Category: Team Fortress 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonCherry/pseuds/RaccoonCherry
Summary: When a strange woman in purple comes knocking at her door in the unholy hours of the morning, Alicia sure wonders what the hell is going on. Then she's being told some lady wants to hire her to kill people for money (a LOT of it too), but she is way better than that! Or is she?





	1. Money Makes People Question Their Morality

It was a gray and cloudy morning in the European district of Montreal. Powdery snow was lightly falling, and the hour still being early, shops were just starting to open.  
Miss Pauling, clad in her thick lilac coat, walked in the street, admiring as her breath formed little clouds in the chilly december air. She glanced at windows, posters and shopwindows, then suddenly stopped in front a modest grocery shop. On its window, was elegantly written in white paint «  _Épicerie Fine Européenne – Famille Bartholomeu_  ». She exhaled, happy to have found her destination, then entered the shop. When she pushed open the door, a little bell rang, adverting whoever was here of her presence.  
«  _Just a minute please!_  » Shouted someone in french.  
The woman let the smell of various spices and fresh bread fill her nose. There were various products on display everywhere in the small shop; candies and dried fruits in baskets, spices and coffees carefully sorted on shelves, and even hams and sausages suspended to the ceiling.  
As Miss Pauling was still contemplating the products, a short woman with olive skin and black curly hair erupted from the backstore. She was wearing a white apron with « B » anbroided on it in emerald thread atop of her clothes, which consisted of simple long-sleeved black shirt and jeans. She jogged towards the woman in purple.  
« Alicia… Joséfina Bartholomeu? » Miss Pauling asked, testing the unfamiliar name on her tongue. The other woman nodded and smiled.  
«  _That’s me! But please, just call me Alicia. What can I do for you?_  » Her smile was wide and friendly. Miss Pauling noticed dimples digging their way into her cheeks.  
‘Alright,’ thought Pauling, ‘The time has come to practise my french. Hope I still have it.’  
« _So, Alicia,_  » she started, still uncomfortable with the language, «  _You must wonder the matters of my presence here and how I know your name?_ » She cringed at her accent, but mentally patted herself on the back for her vocabulary. French had been incredibly hard to learn, after all, and Alicia was manifestly aware of how tough it was to speak french, since she made sure to talk slowly enough to be understood.  
Alicia’s brows slightly furrowed, but she kept on smiling. «  _Well, now that I think about it, I certainly do._  »  
«  _Well, my employer, whom we’ll simply call the Administrator in this conversation, has recently started to show some interest in your skills, and would like to hire you._  »  
«  _Skills?_  » Alicia smirked as if Pauling had just told her a corny joke. «  _I work in modest family grocery shop. What could this Administrator of yours could possibly be looking for?_  » She widly moved her arms around to emphasize her point. «  _Seasonal fruits? Exotic spices?_ »

Alicia’s grin started to fade when Miss Pauling smiled in return. The woman in purple tucked a rebel strand of hair behind her ear, then picked a mandarin orange from a nearby basket, briefly examined it and started to peel ithe fruit.  
« _I highly doubt your fruits-_  » (She ate a piece and hummed in satisfaction) «  _-as delicious as they are, really interest my employer. What she DOES want, though, are your swordfighting skills._  »  
«  _My swordfighting sk-_ » The woman was cut short by the sound of photos being dropped on a counter.  
On one of them was a woman who strangely looked like Alicia : same skin tone, same black, thick and curly hair put in a high ponytail… Except the woman on the picture was wielding a slim but sharp-looking sword (Pauling’s best guess was the broadsword she spotted hanging on the back wall). The location where the photo was taken was off-setting too : Who could take picture like that from a rooftop?  
Alicia, meanwhile, looked like she was struck in the face with a shovel.  
« Wher did you get these? » She asked, switching to English. Miss Pauling’s eyes slightly widened.  
« We have eyes everywhere. » She explained plainly. « So you’re not even going to try to deny it’s you on these pictures? » she added.  
Alicia scoffed. « What for? You know my name -» She eyed a picture taken in an alley where she was apparently facing the camera. « And you have pictures of me taken where I know there aren’t security cameras. »  
An awkward silence followed. Well, for Alicica, it sure was awkward. A complete stranger walked in her shop at opening hour, slapped a bunch of creepy pictures on her counter and said she knew a lot about her, including her vigilante tendencies. What a great way to start a Sunday morning.  
‘I should’ve gone to church with _Papai_ instead of insisting to open the shop.’  
« So… » started Alicia, unsure on how to adress the situation. « What kind of… job requires someone who can wield a sword? And why me? We’re in Montreal! I’m sure you could find some other bizarre who would take whatever job you have to offer without giving it any second thought. »  
« Surely, but you are the only one who meets all the requirements. »  
« Which are? »  
« Basically, being able to feel empathy. »  
‘I SO should’ve gone to church with _Papai_.’  
Another silence. Alicia sighed.  
« What’s the job? »  
Miss Pauling’s eyes seemed to lighten up as she explained. « You would work at a place called the Teufort facility, and your job would mainly be to protect your teammates and provide them with backup when necessary. You see, there are two teams, and THEIR job is essentially to kill eachother and steal the other team’s intelligence, which is in a briefcase . »  
« So I would basically have to protect a bunch of mercenaries from another bunch of mercenaries. »  
« Exactly. »  
« I would have to kill people. »  
« Definitely. »  
Alicia rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance. How could this woman who didn’t know a single thing about her even think a split second that she would accept to kill for money? Her Portuguese pride was definitely wounded.  
« What’s your name again? » she asked.  « Never got it. »  
« Just call me miss Pauling. »  
« Listen miss Pauling, what makes you think I would even consider this kind of job? »  
« It pays well. » The woman in purple said, shrugging.  
Alicia scoffed and crosse dher arms over her chest, trying her best to look offended. « So? That changes nothing to the fact you’re offering me money to kill people. I should be calling the police. »  
Miss Pauling didn’t answer. Instead, she stuffed her hand in the bang hanging on her hip and took out a thin file, opened it and read for a few seconds before talking again.  
« Your father needs medical treatments, am I right? »  
« Yes. » Alicica gritted through her teeth. She didn’t know what was keeping her from kicking this strange woman from her shop.  
« How much is the bill for his medication? »  
« Almost 1700$. Why do you want to know that? » She was almost insulted by the question. But at least, Miss Pauling had the delicacy of not asking details about her father’s illness. She probably already knew what it was anyways.  
« If you work with us, Alicia, everything will be paid for within two weeks. » Joining the gesture to the word, she pulled out a check from her bag and handed it to the portuguese, before adding « It’s weekly. »  
Alicia’s eyes went as wide as the madarin oranges she sold. Two thousands dollars. A week.  
‘I make this much money in six months of full-time work.’ She thought. ‘There’s no one except maybe the guy currently residing in the White House who has this much money to give. I could pay _Papai’s_ medical treatment, and so much more! A new boutique? A new house? But killing people is bad though. I mean, I could get arrested by the police. Probably.’  
« How… long is the contract? » she asked without looking away from the check.  
« Five years. » Miss Pauling said before briefly pausing. « Listen, I’d understand if you didn’t want to- »   
« I accept. »  
Miss Pauling smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Cherry here! Thank you for reading this! Feedback is always appreciated, good or bad, since it helps me improve my writing! Also, some of you might know that I had two other works published on this account, but I've recently decided to edit them (I reread them and decided it was for the best. plus I noticed some major plot holes that I needed to work on). Finally, english is not my first language and I'm still learning, so if anything sounds off, please tell me!  
> P.S: The average salary in Quebec in the 1970's was around 5054,40$ (about 32 500$ today) and according to inflation, 1700$ in 1970 is equivalent to 11 000$ today, so a little more than half of Alicia's yearly salary.


	2. Jumping From A Moving Helicopter Usually Isn't A Good Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia accepted the job. But what will happen once she ACTUALLY gets on the field?

« You will have nine temmates, » Said miss Pauling as she took out nine more files from her bag. « Some may need more protection than others. » She took a picture from the file ontop of the pile. It showed the face a lanky man that was at the very least 5 years younger than Alicia.  
« This is Scout. » Started miss Pauling.  
Alicia frowned. « Scout? What kind of name is that? »  
« Codename. They all have one. You’ll have one too. So this is Scout. » she started, looking at Alicia in a way that dared her to interrupt again. « His job is basically to run as fast as he can, knock people over with a baseball bat, steal the other team’s intel while killing as many opponents as possible in the process. He’s not necessarily going to need protection, but he may call you for backup to get enemies off of his back. » 

Then came a man with a square jaw, wearing a yellow helmet and goggles that hid his eyes.  
« Engineer. Now HE will certainly need your assistance. »  
« Why? Can’t he fight? »  
« That’s not the problem. His job is to build things, like turets and sentries, but when he does so, both of his hands are occupied and he can’t defend himself, making him an easy target for the other team. He also can’t fight when he’s carrying his gear, which is a problem. So he’ll defnitely need some protection. »  
Next picture. A man with an angular face, wearing yellow sunglasses and a ranger hat.  
« The Sniper. Chances are he’ll hide somewhere high and shoot down enemies from a distance, though he may call for backup ocasionally. »  
Next photo. This time, the man’s face was almost fully hidden bu a mask, except for the eyes and mouth area.  
« This is the Spy. He can become invisible and turn into anything to hide. » Miss Pauling paused for a second. « I strongly advise you watch out for the opposite team’s own Sniper and Spy. You won’t see either of them coming.  »  
‘And I though this job in the grocery shop had stressful times.’ 

And so on and so forth. Miss Pauling briefly introduced each of the mercenaries to Alicia : The Medic, somewhat crazy but efficient; Heavy, strong silent type that you definitely don’t want to piss off; Pyro, batshit crazy, sets everything ablaze while whistling ballades, and Demoman, drunk 90% of the time, likes to blow shit up.  
‘What a merry bunch!’ Alicia thought.  
Something was still off to her, though.  
« Hold on, Miss Pauling… The contract is valid for five years. If we are ten on each side and some of us get killed everyday, how exactly does this work? Do you hire new people everytime? »  
Now miss Pauling looked slightly uncomfortable. She looked left and right, as though she thought she was being watched.  
« We have something we call a… Respawn Machine. » She whispered as she leaned in. She waited a few seconds to see if Alicia would ask anything, but she remained silent, intently listening.  
« I am not allowed to give you details about it, except that whenever you get killed on the field, you get brought back to life an infinite amount of times, no matter what the injury is. We’ve had men come back from backstabs, dismemberment and beheadings. »  
« That sure is useful. »  
« You have no idea. »  
An awkward silence once again.  
« So… » Said Alicia. She was getting really tired of starting all of sentences with ‘so’. « They all have a codename based on their job. What will mine be? »  
« You, Alicia, are the Knight. »  
« The Knight. » Alicia repeated. « It has a nice ring to it. » she said, smiling. 

 

February 1972. The date when, according to the contract, the job would start. Knight brought her knee to her chest to lace her boot up, the noise of the helicopter’s propellers roaring in her ears like the wings of a colossal beast. She gripped her belt tightly : The wide open space of military helicopters gave her goose bumps. Despite the fact that her seatbelt was well fastened, she couldn’t help but imagine herself slipping on the metallic floor and falling to her death in the sand almost two kilometers below.  
Miss Pauling’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.  
« First day on the job, Knight! » She said almost too cheerfully. The only keeping her from falling was a leather handle on the machine’s ceiling. « Are you ready? »  
Knight clutched the handle of her sword, making the fine leather of her gauntlets tighten over her knuckles. She clenched her jaw, trying to prepare herself mentally for whatever she was about to do.  
‘I’m about to go kill a bunch of people. For money. When I think I wanted to become a doctor when I was 12.’ She smirked at her inner irony. Maybe she should have pursued her studies, after all. Whatever. Now she was in an helicopter, somewhere in the United States (God bless, yaddah, yaddah), ready to leap into action.  
« Yeah. Ready. » She finally answered. She gathered her courage and looked through the giant hole in the helicopter. They were now flying over a desertic wasteland where there were only a small town, and a few kilometers away, what she supposed was the Teufort facility.  
« Okay, Knight, justone more thing, » Pauling said, « You protect everyone in red, and kill everyone in blue. Got it? »  
« Yup. »  
The helicopter suddenly stopped just as they flew about 100 meters over the facility.  
« Where are we landing? » Interrogated Knight.  
« We’re not. »  
« You want me to jump. »  
« Indeed. »  
Knight reconsidered all the life choices that had led her to this very moment for a brief second, before thinking ‘eh, what the hell’ and unbuckling her belt. She bent her knees to steady herself, nodded to the Assistant and wished her unironically to have a wonderful day, made sure her weapons were all secured in their respectives cases, then jumped from the helicopter.  
Meanwhile, miss Pauling just stood there, wondering why in hell the woman didn’t just ask for a parachute. 

The wind was furiously roaring into Knight’s ears, as if it was criticizing this extremely bad decision she’d just made. As she fell, she tried to spot a building high and close enough for her to reach with her grappling hook. She finally noticed a cornice not too far from her. She grapped the rope, swung it towards the brick border and prayed for the best. She felt the familiar tug on her arms as she was swung unceremoniously towards a wall while emitting an audible « Ugh, godammit » when she came into contact with the brick and concrete.  
Using her feet as support, she climbed slowly climbed the wall towards the roof.  
Her gloved hand finally came into contact with the reassuring surface of a falt roof. Grunting, she pulled herself up, feeling her forearms shaking and burning at the effort. She allowed herself to lay flat on her back to catch her breath. She then put her rope back into her backpack and explored her roof, kneeling at the edge.  
On a lower building, Knight saw a short man in brown overalls with a red shirt beneath and a yellow helmet she easily recongnized as the Engineer. She wondered for a second if Pauling had warned the mercenaries about her arrival.  
But then she heard something, aside from her heartbeat : Footsteps that were apparently going towards the Engineer. The only problem with this was the fact that Knight saw no one except for the man in overalls.  
And suddenly a man in a blue suit appeared. Unsheated a butterfly knife.  
‘Protect those dressed in red,’ she remembered. ‘and kill those dressed in blue.’  
Without thinking twice, Knight released her own weapon from its scabbard, leapt onto the lower roof, right behind the blue Spy. 

She would never have thought her blade would go through a body so easily. She saw the metal disappearing somwhere at the left of the man’s spine. She heard him grunt loudly in surprise and pain. She practically ripped her sword from his body. He fell limp. All was red; Her sword. The ground. Her shirt.  
She’d just killed someone. It was both as easy and as difficult as she imagined. Having the power over a man’s life but bearing the weight of taking it away from him. 

Knight tore her eyes away from the corpse and looked up only to see the Engineer facing her. He’d taken out a massive shotgun and looked extremely surprised, as if someone just told him aliens were real. An awkward silence settled while the man lowered his gun.  
« I guess I should thank you for that, miss. » The man started. He had a rich and thick Texan accent. « So, thank you. » he said, tipping his helmet. He then extended his hand towards Knight. « I’m the Engineer. And you are? »  
She took his hand and a vigorously shook it.  
« Pleased to meet you. » She smiled.  
« I am the Knight. »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here's a new chapter! this one is little longer and I took more time to write and edit it, so I think it's better constructed than the first one.  
> As I said in the precedent chapter, English isn't my first language, so if i made any mistake or if some sentences sound odd, please tell me!


End file.
